


February Words 03: Gravel

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Series: February Words [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hospital, M/M, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Werewolf Derek Hale, mentions of torture, stiles stilinski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 13:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13571190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: “It’s permanent, then?”Derek tried to keep his voice low, but it echoed off the cold white surfaces of the hospital anyway.Please read the notes for further information on the torture mention.





	February Words 03: Gravel

“It’s permanent, then?”

Derek tried to keep his voice low, but it echoed off the cold white surfaces of the hospital anyway. Stiles’ heartbeat sounded like he was asleep, but Derek had discovered that was no longer a given. In the three weeks they’d been held captive — with only a thin wall between them but no way for Derek to break free or even speak, no matter how loud they made Stiles scream — Stiles had spent his downtime meditating and had learned, finally, to calm his heart and mind.

The first day in the abandoned meatworks they’d told Stiles that Derek was dead. A week later they’d shown him a uniform shirt covered in blood and told him it had belonged to his father. They’d taunted him with photographs of Pack members who didn’t seem to be searching for him.

Stiles hadn’t reacted to their taunts openly. He’d only given them his voice when they cut him and burned him and

Derek swallowed the bile and memories that rose in his throat.

Melissa pressed her hand over his as she nodded, then left to continue her rounds. Derek sat in the bleach-stink plastic chair and looked at his shoes. They still had no idea what the hunters had really wanted.

“It’s not your fault, D.”

They were still, unmistakably, Stiles’ words, but for days on end he’d screamed and screamed and screamed.

Stiles smiled and reached out the hand that wasn’t hooked up to a machine. The blue and yellow and purple on it would fade. The bones in his other fingers would would knit back together, as would the one in his leg. The flat, red lines where they’d torn his flesh would morph mostly back to the same pale his skin had always been.

Derek took the offered hand in his own and pulled what pain there was left under the codeine thrum in Stiles’ blood.

Stiles smiled around the thick sounds his throat made.

“I think I sound kinda sexy, actually.”

♠

_gravel (adj):  harsh and grating_

**Author's Note:**

> There is no graphic torture in this piece, but Derek thinks about what he knows happened to Stiles.
> 
> This fic is from a [prompt table](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com/post/170416154151/february-words-masterlist) on my tumblr.  
> 


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